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t 




THE MEASURE OF A MAN 


\ 


V 












k 


The Measure of a Man 

And Other Songs of 
Work and Cheer 





• BY 

JAMIE HERON 


) * 


> > 



PUBLISHERS 

BARSE & HOPKINS 

NEW YORK, N. Y. NEWARK, N. J. 


fS 3 &/> 5 ~ 

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Copyright, 1923, by 
BARSE & HOPKINS 


* 




PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


NOV 22 *23 

©C1A759943 




DEDICATED TO ALL BUSINESS MEN 


Here, take these verses, business men, 
And read them over now and then 
I’ve written most of them, you see, 
To help me sell myself to me. 

And you may find a thought or two 
To help you sell yourself to you. 


% 













CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Measure of a Man .... 9 


Otherism.11 

Listen.13 

Keep On, Keeping On .... 15 

Others and Company.17 

The Eight Hour Day .... 19 

To Rotary.21 

The Man Inside.22 

Let’s Go!.23 

Business Is Business.26 

The Need of the Hour .... 29 

Leaders of Men.31 

Cheer Up!.34 

The Land of Never-Grow-Old . . 36 

Keep Under Control.39 


v 









CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Thankfulness.42 

My Two Friends.44 

Faugh-a-Ballagh !.46 

Bonus—What For?.48 

The Chase.50 

Mamoose.'53 

God’s Garden.54 

We Builded Ships.57 

In Flanders Fields ... . . . 59 

Let Poppies Grow.60 

To a Cootie.62 

Teddy and the Enemy .... 69 

John Barleycorn, Adieu! ... 78 

Steel, America’s National Cream . 81 

The Chiefest.84 

Thou’rt Gone, But Singing Still . 88 

Fishing.89 

God’s Great Out-o’-Doors ... 91 

Sunset.93 

Sink the Ships of War .... 96 


VI 









CONTENTS 


PAGE 

To Harry Lauder. 98 

Sir Harry Lauder’s Greeting to 

America.103 

John Barleycorn at Sea . . . 106 

The Law.109 

Temperance.112 

“That’s How You Fixed It” . . . 114 

To Eddy Guest .117 

A Wish. 119 

If I Were a Foreman.120 

Will to Win!.121 


•• 

Vll 










THE MEASURE OF A MAN 


When in the silence of the night, 

When darkness hugs the world so tight, 
When all is hushed and quiet with sleep 
And haunting memories ’round me creep; 
When I can spend that hour alone 
And find the man I’ve never known; 
When I can meet him face to face 
And there commune with me apace; 

t 

When I can take myself in hand 
And measure up just where I stand; 

When I can gaze into my heart 
And see my worth upon life’s chart; 

When I can look back o’er the road 
And count the times I’ve shirked my load 
And estimate the hours I’ve spent 
On things that were not permanent; 

When I can realize the crime 
Of spending worthlessly my time; 

§ 


THE MEASURE OF A MAN 


When I can call things by the name 
I ought to, and accept the blame; 

When I can place where it belongs 
The reason for my countless wrongs; 
When I can pile in one great heap 
My faults, the harvest I shall reap, 

Then knowing what I am, can say, 

“From this time onward, from today, 
I’ll work, and serve and will to win 
To mould a better man within.” 

So, when I turn the searchlight on 
My faults^—behold, all will be gone, 
And there shall stand revealed to me 
The Man God meant that I should be. 


io 


OTHERISM 


It matters not where I may go 
To grammar school or college; 

It matters not how much I know, 

If I but use that knowledge 

For others. 


It matters not what I may do 
In business or profession; 

I only know I must be true 
To make a true impression 

On others. 


It matters not what I may think 
At work, at play, or rest; 

It matters not, if I but sink 
All selfish thoughts and think the best 

Of others. 


ii 


OTHERISM 


It matters not what men may say; 
It matters not what men may give; 

’Tis my resolve that, day by day, 
I’ll do my best to give and live 

For others. 


LISTEN 


Are you living in this great age, 

Or only passing through? 

Have you turned to a clean new page 
To write your life anew? 

Do you know that the past has fled 
With all of its hate and strife, 

And that you might as well be dead 
As live in that past life? 

Do you know that to live means work 
And ultimate happiness, 

And that failure and death both lurk 
In constant idleness? 

Do you know that success is sure 
If you want it hard enough; 

And prosperity will endure 

If you’ve the proper stuff? 

13 


LISTEN 


Do you know that it’s up to you 
To work, succeed, and live? 

But first you must be true, 

And learn to give, and give, and give! 


KEEP ON, KEEPING ON 


Say you’re broke and busted, 
You’re tired and disgusted, 

And everything seems out of gear; 
And the friends that you had 
All declare that you’re mad, 

And say that you’re nutty and queer. 

As you struggle and scheme 
In unfolding your dream, 

|The dream you’ve put all your heart in 
If you set your own pace 
With a smile on your face 
And keep on, keeping on, you’ll win! 

And if business is bad 
Don’t look glum or feel sad, 

Or knock the condition of trade; 

Ten to one you will find 
By adjusting your mind 
And your effort, and better the grade 

15 


KEEP ON, KEEPING ON 


Of goods in your store, 

You will profit far more 
Than the grouch that you once had been. 
So keep smiling away, 

And improving each day, 

And keep on, keeping on, and you’ll win! 

Every failure in life, 

Every struggle and strife 
That comes to you, average man, 

Is caused by your shifting 
And heedlessly drifting 
Far off from your God-given plan; 

For the dreams of your youth 
Are all founded on truth, 

And if kept from pollution of sin 
Will start your thought right 
For life’s strenuous fight. 

So, keep on, keeping on, and you’ll win! 


16 


OTHERS AND COMPANY 


If I were in business, employing men, 

I’d talk to myself like this now and then, 
“This is a wonderful business I’ve got, 
But is it mine, yes, is it mine or not? 

O yes, I know that my money is in it, 

Yes, and it’s true that I did begin it, 

But, is it mine? Does it belong to me 
Or to Others,—Others and Company? 


“Others and Company—that’s not a new firm 
No, they’ve been in business now quite a term 
Fact is, they started in business with me; 

My patrons are, Others and Company. 

They are the ones I owe everything to, 

And now, man to man, let me tell you true, 

I smile whenever my customers call; 

But for them I’d have no business at all. 

i7 


OTHERS AND COMPANY 


“So that’s why I’m happy, that’s why I’m free, 
That’s why business does not worry me, 

And those who work with me helping me serve, 
(They do not work for me. My! that is 
nerve). 

They’re happy in serving because they know 
That in serving, men and business will grow.” 
That’s what I’d say to myself now and then, 

If I were in business, employing men. 


18 


THE EIGHT HOUR DAY 

“The eight hour day has co-me to stay. 
Be Dad, it has!” says Pat, 

“And I’m the man who says the plan 
Is not so bad at that. 

For if ye work and do not shirk 
’Tis plenty long enough, 

But when the rest don’t do their best 
The day is long and tough. 


“For eight hours’ pay I’ll work each day; 
Be Dad, I will!” says Pat. 

“Each minute to, is what is due 
To make the eight hours fat; 

So, Mike and Jim and Bill and Tim, 
Come, pledge your efforts too. 

Jump in and lead and set the speed 
And make our service true. 


19 


THE EIGHT HOUR DAY 


“The man who’ll skimp ’s a dirty shrimp. 
Be Dad, he is!” says Pat. 

“And his own kind must change his mind 
And punish men like that; 

So let us fight for what is right 
For boss and working man; 

Hip, hip, hurray! for this new day, 

The eight hour working plan!” 


20 


TO ROTARY 


O, it’s great to belong to Rotary 
And serve your fellowman, 

“He profits most who serves the best” 
Upon the Rotary plan. 

Around the world it’s going, 

This brotherhood of man; 

O, it’s great to belong to Rotary 
And be a Rotarian. 

O, it’s great to belong to Rotary 
A hundred thousand strong, 

Men of every nation 
Are happy to belong; 

The movement’s ever growing 
To help the world along; 

O, it’s great to belong to Rotary 
And sing this Rotary song. 


21 


THE MAN INSIDE 


There’s a man inside of the man that you are, 
And he’s bigger than you, yes, bigger by far; 
And he’s checking you up in every way, 

And for each transgression he makes you pay; 
And for each good deed he will pay to you 
A reward far beyond the price that is due. 

So be good to him and respect this man, 

Believe in his judgment, nor fear his ban. 

There’s a man inside of the man that you arc; 
If you listen to him you will travel far; 

So listen and heed; don’t be a fool, 

And do what you do by the Golden Rule, 

And build the man as you would a ship, 

Sturdy and true for life’s service trip; 

And trust him well, he’s your compass and 
guide, 

And ever respond to the man inside. 


22 


LET’S GO! 


When America’s “Best” 

Had a big job to do, 

They didn’t ask why, 

Where, nor whimper; they knew 
That they were expected 

To see the job through. 

So they said, 

“Let’s Go!” 


When American boys 

Are competing at sport, 

They care not for records, 
Opponents report; 

They practice to win and 
Their only retort 
Is, “Come on,— 

“Let’s GoI” 

When American women 
Were after the vote, 


23 


LET’S GO! 


They struggled until they 

Had the Government’s “goat, 
And they jammed the bill through 
And they did it, you’ll note, 
With the spirit of, 

“Let’s Go I” 

He who would win in the 
Biggest way, is the man 
k Who will honestly serve 
And will do all he can 
To help other men build and 
Unfold their life’s plan, 

By leading and saying, 

“Let’s Go I” 


So will that Nation rise 

To a life that will last, 
When her people work 
And forget the past, 

And will join other lands 
In trade ’fore the mast, 

And say to the world, 

“Let’s Go!” 


24 


LET’S GO! 


Yes, American men, 

There is a big work to do, 

If world leaders you’d be, 

And see the job through; 
Get busy with business, 

This slogan’s for you— 

Now say altogether, 

“Let’s Go!” 


25 


BUSINESS IS BUSINESS 

“Business is business,” 

We’ve often been told, 
Successful business 

Is measured in gold, 

Do the other chap first 
Or he’ll do you, 

Trust no man, not one, 

For no man is true. 


Each man for himself, 

“Old Nick” for the last, 

Are terms in business 

We’ve used in the past; 

And we cared not how 

We were cussed and slammed, 
But we got all we could, 

And the public be damned. 

26 


BUSINESS IS BUSINESS 


“Business is business,” 

Just what we think it, 
It may be a god, 

Maybe a trinket, 

It may be a mill 

For grinding out gold, 
A mart where humans 

Are bartered and sold; 
It may be a trap 

To catch all we can, 

A snare for strangling 
Our fellow man; 

It may be a virile, 

Strenuous game 
Which we play to win 

Both glory and fame; 
It may be a ladder 

To climb to power, 

To be hailed by the crowd 
As the man of the hour; 
It may be a joy-ride 
Of riot and dash 
To gather a “rep” 

For spending the cash; 

27 


BUSINESS IS BUSINESS 


Or, it may be a service 
To human kind 
And such it will be when 

You make up your mind. 

“Business is business,” 

And when understood, 
Business is service 

For all human good; 
And service means striving 
Always to give 
Sincere effort, aiding 
Others to live; 

Trusting all men, 

All men will trust you, 
Believing all men, 

For all men are true; 
Then success and happiness 
Come without strife; 

For business is service, 

And service is life . 


28 


THE NEED OF THE HOUR 


The need of the hour 
Is the will to work, 

To kill all desire 

To loaf and to shirk; 

To fill every minute 
From sun to sun 
With constant endeavor 
And work well done; 

So the ideals we fought for 
Over in France 
Shall be lived day by day 
In our Peace advance. 

The man of the hour 

Is the man who’ll produce; 
Who’ll multiply effort, 

Who will not reduce; 
Who’ll sacrifice even 
Personal gain 
29 


THE NEED OF THE HOUR 

For the need of the hour, 

And world trade maintain; 

A man so honest 

He’ll fearlessly dare 

To urge his companions 
To do their share. 

The need of the hour 
Is the will to trust; 

Believe in each other, 

’Tis wise, ’tis just; 

Believe and proclaim 

The man’s the thing. 

If his heart be true 

And have the right ring, 

Though he work with his hand, 
His head, or gold, 

He’s a God of a man, 

A joy to behold. 


30 


LEADERS OF MEN 


Leaders of men, where have you been? 
Why are ye not leading your men? 

Why are ye not forging ahead? 

Know ye not that men want to be led? 

Why persist in driving behind, 

When men if led will follow blind? 

Leaders of men, the day is past 

When humans as mere machines are classed, 

When underpaid are underfed. 

Men do their work because they dread, 
Men are driven who work for need, 

And do no more than earn their feed. 

Leaders of men, because ye have 
But made your fellow man your slave; 
Because of selfish lust for gain 
And business ethics to maintain; 

Because ye would not take the helm—; 
Others have risen outside your realm. 

3i 


LEADERS OF MEN 


Leaders of men, do ye not know 
The child is born and he must grow 
To follow, or one chance in ten 
Perhaps he may lead other men? 

Whether leading or following still he can 
If led aright become a man. 

Leaders of men, do ye not see 
Your great responsibility? 

For men who follow must advance, 

And to be happy must have a chance 
To achieve their very life’s ambition, 
Which means to better their condition. 

Leaders of men, your attitude 
Must be sincere and understood, 

But if your friendliness is “bluff,” 

Your men will hate you, like enough; 
While familiarity that’s true 
Will bind all men in love to you. 

Leaders of men, you’ll see your men 
Not working for, but with you then, 

To help you serve humanity, 

The servants that you ought to be; 

32 


LEADERS OF MEN 


And you will profit none the less 
But add success and happiness. 

Leaders of men, you who employ, 
No other way can you bring joy, 
No other way can you supplant 
False leadership men do not want, 
But leading with sincerity 
Will bring to all prosperity. 


\ 


33 


CHEER UP! 


There is nothing so bad that 
It cannot be worse; 

There is no cloud so dense 
The sun cannot disperse; 

Oh, the winter is long but 
The spring comes at last 

With renewal of life; let’s 
Forget the dark past; 

Let the days be all sunshine 
And laughter and love. 

Cheer up! see through the 
Clouds, the sun is above. 

There are men who are always 
Looking for trouble, 

And finding it wonder 

Why it comes double; 

There are men who say, “Business 
Has all gone to Hell!” 

34 


CHEER UP! 


And it has, just for them, 

Because gloom cannot sell. 
Cheer up! success follows 

The man who will smile; 
Who makes little of trouble 

With business worth while. 

Cheer up and be happy, 

’Tis a message of cheer, 
Cheer up and get busy, 

There’s nothing to fear; 
For trouble is nothing 

But thought after all, 

So, we may as well think it 
Is nothing at all; 

Life’s just what we make it, 

So let’s, while we’re here, 
Cheer up! and be happy— 
There’s nothing to fear! 


X, 


35 


THE LAND OF NEVER-GROW-OLD 


Come, live with me in the 

Land of Never-Grow-Old, 
Where the secret of life is, 
There life to unfold. 

In the beauty of all its 

Surroundings we’ll live 
With other good fellows 
Who live just to give, 
And be happy in doing 
The best that they can 
To aid others in living 

And building the man. 

The Land of Never-Grow-Old 
Is the land of truth, 
Where we count not the years 
But the spirit of youth; 
Where the night is just part 
Of the glorious day; 

36 


THE LAND OF NEVER-GROW-OLD 


Where everyone’s busy and 
All work is just play; 
Where we work not for gold 
But for love of the doing, 
Without any thought of 
The Reaper pursuing. 


And all must work in the 

Land of Never-Grow-Old, 
For “Love-of-Work” is the 

Gate to that land, we are told. 
And all must strive and 

Desire to live every day 
To get all the fun that 

Surely cometh our way. 

We’ll put our capital in 

The Bank of Good Health, 
For to live in that land 

Is the greatest of wealth. 


Oh, that glorious land is 
A blessing for all, 

But, too few of us live there, 
By the way many fall. 
37 


THE LAND OF NEVER-GROW-OLD 


Most of us drift and live 
By the easiest way, 
Content and satisfied 

With the smallest of pay, 
When by living for others, 

Ah! that’s the real gold, 
We would all live in the 

Land of Never-Grow-Old. 


38 


KEEP UNDER CONTROL 


In the journey through life 
There is more or less strife, 
And it comes to you and to me, 

To test and to try us 
And ever defy us 
To conquer, to win and be free. 

So let’s count the worries 
As so many flurries, 

For they cannot hurt a man’s soul; 
If we dig our toes in 
And determine to win 
And always keep under control. 

There is friction, I know, 

In a home that’s “just so,” 

But that is for smoothing the way 
To closer connection 
And deeper affection; 

A home is not made in a day. 

But, trusting each other, 

Both Daddy and Mother, 

39 


KEEP UNDER CONTROL 


As onward the years swiftly roll, 
Forgetting, forgiving, 

Will make life worth living, 
And always keep under control. 


To bask in the fame 
As “king of the game,” 

A hero of national renown, 

In the sport of our land 
It is harder to stand 
The popular acclaim than the frown; 
For the one thing to dread 
Is the inflated head, 

When you’re at the top of the scroll, 
So be silent with poise 
And be one of the boys, 

And always keep under control. 


In every vocation 
In human relation, 

In business, profession or art, 
In pleasure or work 
It’s dead easy to shirk, 

40 


KEEP UNDER CONTROL 


So be in the game from the start. 
Remember these morals, 

“Don’t stand on your laurels I” 
“Success comes when you pay the toll I” 
“Never weaken! Don’t quit 1” 
“Build the man! Keep him fit!” 
And always keep under control. 


4i 


THANKFULNESS 


We are all thankful for some things, 
The thing that we like the best, 

But the man thankful for all things 
Is the man who is truly blest. 

We are all thankful for pleasures 
Where the joys of life seem to lurk, 

But here’s to the man who measures 
His thanks in the joy of his work. 

It’s easy enough to give our thanks 
When life is all sunshine; but when 
Fate plays us her meanest pranks, 

It is hard to be thankful then. 

Oh, we all like the booster’s gab, 

The praise he so lavishly spreads, 

But, can we give thanks for the stab 
That tears all we’ve done into shreds? 


42 


THANKFULNESS 


It’s easy to thank those who praise us, 

To bask in the limelight of fame, 

But the man who’ll persistently raise us 
By knocking, can we thank him the same? 

“Every knock is a boost,” wise men say, 
If we learn to adjust each time; 

But boosting will often delay 
Our onward and upward climb. 

So, let us give thanks with a smile 
And count adversities bump, 

Which holds us back for a while, 

But aids us in making the jump. 


43 


MY TWO FRIENDS 


I have a friend who likes me best 

When I’ve no favors to request; 

When all my daily wants are met, 

And business does not make me fret; 

When wife and children all are well, 

When I’ve no tale of woe to tell. 

When I go wrong, he does not care, 

He never tells me to beware, 

He’d even lie to save me pain 

To hear me laugh and sing again; 

When troubles come, he’s troubled too, 

He never knows just what to do; 

He does not borrow, does not lend; 

You see, he’s my Fair-weather friend. 

I have another friend, to me 

He’s everything a friend should be; 

When clouds are dark and overcast, 

He doesn’t wait till they are past, 

44 


MY TWO FRIENDS 


But jumps right in to help me fight, 

Help me control, then thinking right 
I’ll soon forget my sorrow. 

He lends as quick as he will borrow, 

He knows my faults, my virtues too, 

I know he loves me through and through; 
For when I’m wrong he tells me so 

And makes me understand. I know 
He would not lie for any end, 

You see he is my truest friend. 


45 


FAUGH-A-B ALLAGH! 


Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 

The power of right has won the day, 

The power of truth unfolds the dawn, 
The power of God is marching on; 

No earthly might that power can stay. 
Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 

Let kings and queens and all their sons, 
And super-men and privileged ones 
Beware of what the years will bring, 
Their day is done, they’ve had their fling; 
The common man now rules today. 
Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 

’Twas common man that bade war cease 
^was common man that wrote the peace. 
And common man has made it plain 
That war shall never come again— 

And common man will have the say. 
Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 

46 


FAUGH-A-BALLAGH! 


Gone is the dark and maddening night; 
Yet, countless hordes are seeking light; 
They grovel in the muck to find 
True peace and happiness of mind. 

Get us, look up, and see the day— 
Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 

The progress of the world is sure, 
And love shall reign and ’twill endure; 
No nation, sect, or country can 
Stop the momentum of God’s plan. 

A league of love will come to stay. 
Faugh-a-Ballagh! Clear the way! 


47 


BONUS—WHAT FOR? 


(An Ex-Soldier Speaks ) 

“Bonus, Hell! Yes, what the Hell for? 
Oh, ’cause I fought in the war! 

The State owes it to me? What rot! 

I didn’t fight for it, I fought 
For my Country and for a cause, 

For justice, to preserve God’s laws. 

“Yes, I lost that leg in the show, 

But I’m not grieving much, oh, no, 

For I gave my life when I went, 

Not just a leg. I don’t want a cent 
For what I gave freely; I survive. 

And to thank God that I am alive. 

“Don’t I think it would help the boys 
To come back, and increase their joys? 
Yes, joy might be theirs for a time; 

But listen to this old Scotch rhyme,— 
‘For pleasures are like poppies spread, 
You seize the flower the bloom is shed.’ 

48 


BONUS—WHAT FOR? 

“No! no! it will not do! It’s wrong 
To handicap men who are strong, 

To take away their God-given right 
To strive, to overcome, to fight, 

And to win as other strong men do— 
To build a life—a life that’s true. 

“Of course, the wounded and the sick 
Ought to be cared for mighty quick, 
Until they’re well and strong again, 

And fit to work and thus maintain 
The high standard of their own country, 
And be the men they ought to be. 

“Every soldier who’s a real man 
Is dead against this bonus plan, 

Because he knows, and it’s no “kid,’’ 

No cash can pay for what he did. 

He wants a job and a chance to win, 

And don’t want any bonusin’ 1” 


49 


THE CHASE 


At the sound of the horn, 

Be it night or at morn, 

The dogs are awake 

And waiting with glee. 

They voice their approval 
At the tether’s removal, 

And scamper away, 

Glad, glad to be free. 

The horses are champing 
And eagerly stamping, 

We mount and follow 

And join in the spree. 
“Wee doggie, find ’em! 
Wee doggie, find eml” 
Says Dad, as we gallop 
Along merrily. 

Down the road we go, 

Where the rushes grow, 

50 


THE CHASE 


Fording the river 

Then climbing the hill. 
A call in the distance 
Defies all resistance, 

“That’s Vic! And Stuart! 

The scent is fresh still.” 


“A wildcat’s their choice, 

By the sound of Vic’s voice. 
There’s Queen and Tip 
And faster we follow 

And the rest join the mill. 
Along thro’ the hollow, 
Hurrying, scurrying, 

On for the kill. 


Out into the open, 

They’ll run him, we’re hopin’, 
“Wee Doggie! Wee Doggie! 
Get him!” says Dad, 
And we charge o’er the hill 
And around by the mill 
And over the fence, 

We leap it, by gad l 
J5i 


THE CHASE 


Oh, the going is good 
When we’re clear of the wood, 
The sight of the pack 

Makes every heart glad; 
And now they have got him, 
And now they have caught him, 
And now the great chase 
Is over, my lad. 

There is music galore 
In a grand opera score; 

There are many sports 
Easy to play; 

But give me a steed 
With a two-forty speed 
And a bunch of good fellows, 

Jolly and gay. 

With a wind blowing strong, 

In my face fling the song 
Of the pack in full tilt, 

Aleap for the fray. 

For the hunt and the chase, 
With its musical pace 
Is king of all sports, 

Hurray! Hurray! 

52 


MAMOOSE 

(Grandmother) 

Who is she? You would never guess 
But, oh! she’s sweet with loveliness, 
And you would love her, same as I, 
And never, never have to try. 

But this is how Mamoose appears; 

A lady, young with many years, 

With sparkling eyes and silver hair, 
And tender grace beyond compare. 

Of all things that I could tell, 
Mamoose has builded life so well, 
That all who meet her love her too, 
Because she loves to live for you. 

Could I describe Mamoose to you, 
And could I tell you all that’s true, 

I’d write the love of God divine 
To tell of this sweetheart of mine. 


53 


GOD’S GARDEN 


There’s a land that was planned, 
Yes, by God it was planned, 
And it lies by the mouth 

Of the old Rio Grande, 
Where the silt of the mountain, 
The plain and the hill 
Have been sweeping for centuries 
Into the fill; 

Where the growth of the forest* 
The tropical air, 

And the glorious sun 

Have been doing their share 
In building a soil where 
A Nation might rally 
To establish God’s Garden, 

The Magic Valley. 

There’s a land that is fanned 
By the mellow trade breeze 
54 


GOD’S GARDEN 


And immune from the dread 
Of the cold Norther’s freeze; 

Where the waves of the sea, 

As they glide to and fro, 

Are so gentle and smooth 

They have no undertow. 

Where the sportsman may fish 
To his heart’s sweet content, 

And the next day may hunt 

Till with weariness spent,— 

Where the planter may plant, 

(The soil doesn’t harden) 

And be sure that his crops 

Will mature in God’s Garden. 

There’s a land that is manned 
By a people who give 
Of the best of their labors 
That others may live; 

Who unite to promote 

The best interests of all 
And who come with a rush 
At a sick brother’s call; 

Who put love in their doing 
And do what they love, 

55 


GOD’S GARDEN 


For they live by the laws 
From the Power above. 

Is it any small wonder 

That one loves the land 
In this Garden of God 

By the old Rio Grande? 

There’s a land, O, so grand! 

Best of all in the States, 

The “Apex of the Nation,” 

So Texas relates; 

Like a top, the point 

On which America spins 
In the whirl of achievement, 

So mighty she wins; 

Or like the miner who washes 
The dirt for the gold 
Until he has found it 

In the bottom, we’re told, 

So in this fair land, 

Wealth and plenty abound, 
God’s Garden, vale of Magic 
At last it is found! 


56 


WE BUILDED SHIPS 


We builded ships to win the war, 

To stop the cannon’s deadly roar, 

The screaming shell, the blasting mine 
The muddy trenches, line on line; 

To stop the bullets’ hellish whine, 
And send the Boche across the Rhine— 
We builded ships. 

We builded ships to clear the seas 
Of submarines, that foul disease 
Of German Kultur’s maddened brain, 
By which the innocent were slain; 

To make sure of the pirate’s doom, 
And sink him to his watery tomb— 
We builded ships. 

We builded ships to humble Huns, 
The Kaiser and his slacker sons, 

Von Hindenburg and Ludendorff, 

Von Tirpitz at his U-boat wharf; 

57 


WE BUILDED SHIPS 


To put the murderin’ Hun to rout, 

And wipe all trace of Kultur out— 

We builded ships. 

We builded ships to punish Huns 
Who cruelly murdered little ones, 

Who pillaged, raped, and then did slay 
Young babes and mothers on their way. 
To bring them to their bended knees 
And stop all base atrocities— 

We builded ships. 

We builded ships to bring World’s peace, 
That war for evermore might cease, 

To blend all nations, every clan 
Into a brotherhood of man; 

That our craft may sail the seven seas, 
That our flag may float in every breeze— 
We’ll keep on building ships. 


58 


IN FLANDERS FIELDS 

(An Answer) 

In Flanders Fields the poppies bloom 
Where standing crosses mark your tomb, 
Where larks are gaily singing still, 

But now we hear their skyward trill, 

For all the guns have ceased to boom. 

The crosses tell us you are dead, 

But flaming poppies tell instead, 

That you are living now anew 

In hearts who caught the torch you threw 

From Flanders Fields. 

Though you are sleeping ‘‘Over There,” 
We know that you are living here. 

We loved you then, we love you still, 

So long as poppies bloom, we will; 

So long as larks sing in the air 

In Flanders Fields. 


59 


LET POPPIES GROW 


Let poppies grow in Freedom’s land, 
And let them bloom on every hand, 
That all may see and understand, 

And seeing—pause. 

Let poppies grow a vivid red 
In memory of our precious dead, 
Who fought and fell where valor led 

In freedom’s cause. 


Let poppies grow in every lane. 
They tell of sacrifice and pain, 

The bitter loss, the Heavenly gain 

Of those who went. 
Let poppies grow abundantly, 

They tell the story lovingly, 

Of how they served all willingly 

r 

And were content. 

60 


LET POPPIES GROW 

Let poppies grow. The “Memory Flower” 
To guide us in each darkened hour 
Bids us to seek a Higher Power 

From Heaven above. 

Let poppies grow, and may we keep 
Eternal faith with those who sleep 
In battle-fields and ocean deep 

Because of love. 


61 


TO A COOTIE 


The greatest lessons oft are learned 
From lowly creatures we have spurned, 
And all great men will greater be 
When they have learned humility. 

From Iverness, a Scottish town, 

Came Angus Fraser of renown; 

The hero of this Cootie tale 
Was known far o’er hill and dale. 

He stood six two, was an athlete, 

At games of skill he’d oft’ compete. 

He loved fair play, an honest deal, 

A man of worth and true as steel. 

The greatest war had just begun; 

Great Britain called up every son 
And sent them hurriedly to France 
To stop the savage foe’s advance. 

62 


TO A COOTIE 


Now, some men fight because they must, 
And some men fight for gain and lust, 
And some men feel they are above it, 
While others fight because they love it. 

And Angus loved this fight, because 
The German butcher broke the laws 
Of Nations and with cursed pride 
The laws of God and man defied. 

He loved to shoot and shoot to slay, 

Nor thought he had a perfect day 
Unless he killed a half a score, 

And often times he counted more. 

His nerve was sure, his aim was straight, 
His eagle-eye could penetrate 
The battle-smoke-beclouded day 
And pink a Boche a mile away. 

The Germans learned his aim to dread, 
A price was put upon his head; 

“An Iron Cross who fires the shot 
That kills this dang’rous sniping Scot.” 

63 


TO A COOTIE 


They tried their best to shoot him dead, 
But wary Angus pumped instead 
The bullets into Fritzie, prime, 

And took his toll ’most every time. 

When fighting days are all the same 
The dreary grind grows very tame, 

But He who doeth all things well 
Sends Cooties to relieve the spell. 

When Angus wasn’t killing Hun 
Or polishing his trusty gun, 

He hunted Cooties in their lair 

And wished them all some other where. 

He would hunt and hunt and shake ’em, 
But they’d stick; he couldn’t make ’em 
Budge at all. No, they simply wouldn’t go 
Because they seemed to love him so. 

While on a vigorous hunt one day, 

A lone wee Cootie thought he’d stay 
And hide upon his bony leg 
And take the Scottie down a peg. 

64 


TO A COOTIE 


Cooties are not supposed to bite 
When men are standing up to fight, 

But this wee Cootie didn’t care— 

Bit Scottie’s leg and made him swear. 

It angered him, the Cottie’s nip 
Annoyed him so he couldn’t snip; 

He crouched to get the base marauder 
When, crash! a noise that made him shudder. 

A shot sped on its deadly way 
Crashing into the chalky clay 
Right back of where his head had been; 
He’d ducked in time to save his skin. 

He got the Cootie he was after 
But didn’t kill the little grafter; 

Letting him lie in his hard rough hand, 

He sat right down, too weak to stand. 

That pellet of death had meant to slay, 
But for the Coot he’d be on his way 
Right now to the gate of St. Peter, 

Yes, away to meet his Creator. 

65 


TO A COOTIE 

Trembling so he could scarcely speak, 

He gently pressed the Coot to his cheek; 
Wild thoughts were buzzing through his 
head 

“Thank God for you!” then Angus said. 

“Yer a wee mite despised by man, 

But Cooties belong in God’s great plan; 

So why should we think badly o’ yer breed, 
When a’ ye’re doin’ is looking for yer feed? 

“An’ ye hunt yer feed in some queer places, 
An’ ye care not what the sex or race is, 

But, what’s on a lady’s bonnit? 

Surely there’s no feed upon it. 

“ ‘O wad some power the Giftie gi’e us 
To see oursel’s as ithers see us,’ 

Do ye mind? Bobbie Burns wrote that—• 
Seeing ye on the lassie’s hat. 

“That was before ye changed yer name 
To Cootie; still, yer bite’s the same, 

And still the boys will call ye pest 
When at yer work an’ doin’ yer best. 

66 


TO A COOTIE 


“Ye came right to the boat to meet us; 
I mind how well ye then did greet us, 
An’ weel I mind we tried to sleep, 

On that first night we felt yer creep. 

“We got acquainted ’fore the dawn, 
An’ cursed ye weel ’twixt yawn and yawn 
An’ tried to find ye, but ye’d hid 
In a safe place, ye naughty kid! 

“Hid where not a Scot could find ye, 
An’ on the march we didn’t mind ye, 
No, you were sleeping snug an’ quiet 
To rest yersel’ for work that night. 

“Stayed an’ knew ye were not wanted, 
In the trench ye lived undaunted, 

Ye heeded not the flash an’ roar, 

But worked away to bite the more. 

“I didn’t like ye then at a’ 

To the Hot Place condemned ye a’ 

But now I know, through a’ this strife 
That you were sent to save my life. 

67 


TO A COOTIE 


“An* ye have saved my life the day, 

An’ I owe ye more than I can pay, 

An’ I owe my God wha’ rules above 
A closer fellowship and love. 

“Cootie, I’ll ne’er disturb ye more; 
Whene’er ye’re wantin’ to explore 
My leg, just bite an’ help yersel’ 

An’ I’ll do naught but wish ye well. 

“An’ linger till a feast ye make; 

» 

An’ if I begrudge the bites ye take, 

I’ll count mysel’ the bigger sinner; 

Noo, I’ll put ye back to get yer dinner.” 


68 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


Auld Father Time, ’tis you I mean, 

Your picture I have of’en seen, 

With long white beard, ye’re tall and lean; 

A stern auld man, 

And with yer scythe ye cut us clean. 

Aye, that’s yer plan. 

You snoop around upon the quiet, 

And work away from morn till night, 

And few there are who try to fight 
When you are near; 

They just give up and die o’ fright 
Ere you appear. 

You’re at your schemes to get us a’ 

From birth till we are white as snaw; 
Disease with names as long ’s your jaw 
You’re aye inventing, 

The doctor with his knife and saw 
Is whiles preventing. 

69 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


A thousand other ways ye work 
To cut the cord with sudden jerk; 

Your favorite plan is aye to lurk 

In war’s black clouds; 

’Tis there you take with shot and dirk 
The folks in crowds. 


You got your creel full at the war, 
But was no’ satisfied by far, 

For when the cannon ceased to roar 
(An’ this is true) 

You gave the world an awfu’ jar 
With the cursed flu. 


Small wonder that the folk are feared, 
They canna fight for being sceered, 

But here’s a man who wasn’t smeared 
With any fright; 

When you came round his deck was cleared 
For instant fight. 


A weakling born was this braw lad; 
His Holland father aye was sad 

70 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


To see his start in life so bad; 

But, growing steady, 

His Scottish mother was so glad 
She called him Teddy. 

His mother helped him fight at first 
As lovingly she gently nursed 
Him through the childish ills that burst 
Upon his youth, 

And as he grew acquired a thirst 
For right and truth. 

Now, in his early college days 
You tried to get him many ways; 

You touched his lungs. He quit the maze 
O’ city street, 

An’ to the West he set his gaze 
Yer wiles to beat. 

On North Dakota’s untamed land, 

Where air is crisp and pure an’ grand 
He started with a cow-boy band 
To gain his strength, 

An’ built a body that would stand 
For any length. 

7i 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


Then to the wild and woolly West 
Where mountains heave their snowy crest 
He trailed the grizzly to his nest, 

An’ thought it fun 
To fight the noble brute wi’ just 
His dog an’ gun. 


So, Enemy, he fought ye clean 
An’ won his health that once had been 
Despaired of; now his mind was keen 
To study law, 

That he might help the truth to glean 
And right the flaw. 


Then, step by step, he fought his way 
To highest in his country’s pay; 

Where wieldin’ the “big stick” each day, 
The power of right, 

He made each wrong an enemy 
With which to fight. 


Then steppin’ down from that high place 
Where he two terms had set the pace, 

72 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


That those who followed had to face 
An’ try their best; 

Ambition scorned wi’ humble grace, 

He sought a rest. 

Lest some might think him no’ sincere 

He just pulled up and left them clear,. 

An’ went abroad to hunt the deer 
And wilder beast 

In Africa so dark an’ drear, 

Where black men feast. 

At hunting there he proved his skill, 

The fiercest beasts to stalk an’ kill, 

But, not for slaughter’s sake, or will 
To hunting fame; 

He went for specimens, an’ still 
To play the game. 

Arriving home he found a stew, 

His party friends were feeling blue; 

’Twas mutiny among the crew 
In politics. 

He soon discovered that a few 
Had nasty tricks. 

73 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


O, how he fought to right the wrong, 
E’en bolted from his party strong, 

And many staunch friends trailed along 
Behind his lead, 

And formed a great progressive throng 
To set the speed. 


While many men give up and quit, 
With him ’twas just the opposite; 
His one desire was to be fit 
To fight an’ win, 

So, to the Amazon he lit 

For rest again. 


The doubtful river which he found 
In Western Brazil’s swampy ground 
Where deadly fever germs abound 
And kill strong men, 

But Teddy didn’t care a pound, 

Went on explorin’. 


74 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 

The war in Europe had begun 
And Kaiser Bill amuck had run, 

So Teddy offered every son, 

Himself as well; 

To raise a force to fight the Hun 
And give them Hell. 


No other man in Freedom’s land 
Who took more firm or staunch a stand 
Against the ruthless, murdering band; 
And it was when 

They wouldn’t let him fight by hand, 
Fought with his pen. 


Thus did the great American 
On evil doing put the ban; 

With flaming sword of justice fan 
The atmosphere 

Of doubt and wrong, and wisely plan 
To make it clear. 

Then came Ye forth, relentless, cold, 
As ever Ye have done of old, 


75 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 


k Ye measured him within Time’s mold, 
And set your plan. 

And sought to garner to your fold 
Our Master Man. 


One day when morn was on the peep, 

You called around and thought to reap; 
But Angels watching o’er his sleep 
Took him away; 

America awoke to weep 

On that sad day. 


On stately Sagamore’s wooded hill 
The birds he loved are singing still; 
There’s reverence in the murmuring rill 
That skirts the ground, 
But, oh, there comes an awful chill; 
He’s no’ around. 


And yet we know he lives today, 
Not in a mortal home of clay, 

76 


V 


TEDDY AND THE ENEMY 

But in a grander, bigger way 
To lead us on; 

His vital influence we pray 

Shall ne’er be gone. 

Now all is love where some had hate, 
E’en those who scoffed will oft relate 
How well he ruled his earthly state, 
A Godly man; 

United all acclaim the Great 
American 1 


77 


JOHN BARLEYCORN, ADIEU! 


John Barleycorn, a fond adieu; 

Your enemies declare that you 

Must disappear from view, 

And gang awa’ 

To other parts with all yer crew,— 

So, here’s my paw. 

Your cronies, John, will miss you sore, 

For you were loved by rich and poor, 

But now the law has barred the door 

On its best friend. 

The politicians will deplore 

Hast’ning your end. 

I’m just a poor lone Scottish bard 

Who sang your praises by the yard; 

My path through life was rough and hard, 

But “oiled by thee” 

’Twas made more s;mooth and my regard 

I wrote to ye. 

78 


JOHN BARLEYCORN, ADIEU! 

But, John, since then you’ve gathered faults, 
For often ere you’ve left the vaults 
You’re doctored by dishonest malts 

And other dope; 

Or maybe it is Epsom Salts, 

Or Laundry Soap. 


’Tis then you rouse the base desire 
In decent folk, and kindle fire 
Within, which drags them in the mire; 

O, awful stuff! 
You’re not worthy of your sire; 

You’re just a bluff. 


You’ve fallen in with thieving thugs 
Who’ve made you rotten with their drugs; 
You’re good for naught but painting mugs 

And rousing passion. 
You’d burn the inside out yer jugs; 

You’re a poor ration. 


But, John, you are the blood of grain, 
And if mixed with nothing else but rain 

79 


JOHN BARLEYCORN, ADIEU! 


And brewed for love and not for gain 

Or foolish fad, 

You’d never cause the slightest pain 

To any lad. 

Yes, John, when you are right you cheer 

The folk, and drive away their fear; 

You stimulate when pure and clear 

In any form. 

But when you’re mixed with acids queer 

You raise a storm. 

O mortal man, whate’er you piake, 

Be sure it has not any fake, 

And made alone for its good’s sake, 

You will be blest; 

A message to the world ’twill take 

And pay you best. 




80 


STEEL, AMERICA’S NATIONAL 

CREAM 


Oh, give me a job 

Where the smelters roar, 

Where the fiery monsters 
Gulp the ore, 

Where thundering furnaces 
Rock the earth 
In vigorous labor 

To bring the birth 
Of steel, where 

America’s National Cream 
Sputters and flows 

In a white-hot stream; 
Where half-naked men 
With ladles in hand 
Hurry it off to its bed 
In the waiting sand; 
There, where the base 

Of our wealth is laid, 
There let me work 

At my job and my trade. 
81 


STEEL, AMERICA’S CREAM 

Oh, give me a job 

In the rolling mill, 

Where every day 

Is a constant thrill, 

Where the heat is Hell 
By the furnace blast, 

Where the work is heavy 
And hard and fast, 

Feeding the rolls with 
Hot ingots of steel, 

And making them eat 
Their fiery meal, 

Till it’s shaped into rail, 

Or bar or sheet, 

And the blue-grey mass 
Lies cold at my feet. 
There, where our sinews 

Of commerce are made, 
pThere let me work at 

My job and my trade. 

Oh, give me a job 

To work with the men 
Who work and sweat, and 
Go at it again; 

82 


STEEL, AMERICA’S CREAM 

Men who work with a will, 

And who will to work, 

And who’ll damn the ones 
Who will try to shirk; 

Men who put their hearts 
In their task in hand; 

Men who love their work 
And who understand. 
They are a part of 

All things they create, 
And goods with a soul 

Make a nation great; 
Men who work not alone 
For what they’re paid; 
There let me work at 

My job and my trade. 


83 


THE CHIEFEST 
(A Tribute to Thomas A . Edison) 

From early youth till 

Glow of evening’s sun, 

Each day you have some 
Worthy task begun; 

Since first you learned the 

Dot and dash of Morse, 

You’ve wrestled with 

Dame Nature’s hidden force, 

And many of her secrets 
You did gain 
And then controlled them 
By your wizard brain. 

As the conjurer waves 
His magic wand, 

The playthings of his art 
Leap to respond, 

So, too, you seemed to wave 
Your wand on high, 

84 


THE CHIEFEST 


But not to entertain 
Or please the eye 
Alone. You gave the wonders 
Of your mind 
To be of useful service 
To mankind. 

And now a million men 
In different lands 
Are working with the 

Products of your hands. 

And millions young and old 
Their pleasure seek 
From records that you made 
To sing and speak. 

And twice ten hundred million 
O’er the earth 
Turn night to day since 

Your incandescent’s birth. 

» 

For noble service to 
The human race, 

In every heart you’ve found 
A lasting place, 

Which you appreciate 

And hold more dear 
85 


THE CHIEFEST 


Than all the gold that 

Came from far and near. 
With fame and fortune 
Effort did not cease, 

But wisely planned your 
Service to increase. 

So, now we name you 
Chiefest, Edison, 

Your service measured by 
The plan of One 
Who taught the world 

What service is, to give 
Sincerely of our effort, 

And to live 

For others, not for things 
To call our own; 

Your monument of service 
Stands alone. 

The chiefest servant 
Of them all, is he 
Who plans his life to 
Serve unsparingly; 

Who sets his aim and 
Life’s ambition high, 

86 


THE CHIEFEST 

Then works to fill the 
Minutes as they fly, 
With honest effort 

To accomplish deeds 
That benefit and serve 
All human needs. 




87 


THOU’RT GONE, BUT SINGING STILL 


Caruso, God of Song, golden voice, 
Peer of tenors, the people’s choice; 
The happiness thou spread’st abroad 
Bade men arise and seek their God. 
Thou’rt gone, but singing still. 


Caruso, King of Song, heart of hearts, 
A goodly man of many parts; 

Singing servant, singing friend, 

A human soul in perfect blend, 

Thou’rt gone, but singing still. 


Caruso, Soul of Song, Italy’s son, 

But the heritage of everyone; 

The world is better for thy song; 

The world will love thee, Caruso, long. 
Thou’rt gone, but singing still. 


88 


FISHING 


Oh, I love to go a-fishing 
Where the water is a-swishing 
O’er the boulders and the 

Pebbles in the stream 
Where the wary trout’s a-hiding 
For the flies that come a-gliding 
’Mid the pearly bubbles 

Dancing into cream. 

Oh, I love to go a-wading 
After trout to go a-raiding, 

And to catch the speckled 

Beauties with my fly; 
And to hear the reel a-singing, 

And to know he’s still a-clinging, 

As I land him in my 

Basket by and by. 

Oh, I love to go a-fishing 
With a boy who is a-wishing 
He can wander to the brook 

And have a try; 

89 


FISHING 


For he loves the joy of doing, 

Of some worthy task pursuing, 

And he loves to fish— 

And, frankly, so do I. 

Oh, a boy who is a-yearning 
(When he’s not at school a-learning) 

For the active life in 

God’s “Great Out-o’-Doors” 
Builds a body trim for striving, 

There’s no doubt of his arriving, 

When he’s percolating health 

From all his pores. 


90 


GOD’S GREAT OUT-O’-DOORS 


Glorious empire, majestic West, 

National playland, richly blest, 

Scenic grandeur beyond compare; 

Climate equal to anywhere; 

Soil as rich as any known; 

Luscious fruits of earth are grown! 

West land, best land! 

Land of the mighty free! 
Old land, gold land! 

Land where I long to be! 
Cheer land, dear land I 
Land of sincerity! 

Thy land, my land! 

Love land for thee and me! 

Eternal mountains, snowy peaked, 

Virgin forests, silver streaked, 

Dashing rivers, leaping falls, 

“Come and live” it loudly calls; 

9i 


GOD’S GREAT OUT-O’-DOORS 


“Play in my waters, conquer my hills, 

Stay until the heart o’ ye thrills.” 

Sun land, fun land! 

Land of the perfect day! 

Moon land, spoon land I 
Land where the nights are gay! 
Fair land, dare land! 

Land where I long to stay! 
Roam land, home land! 

Love land for aye and aye! 


92 


SUNSET 


Sunset, God’s closing of the day. 
Illumed in colorful array 
More brilliant than the power of peri 
Or swish of brush in hands of men 
Can say. It glows and fades to rest. 
God’s promise written in the West. 

I’ve seen the dawn in many lands, 
From mountain peaks and silver sands, 
O’er oceans blue and forests bleak 
I’ve watched the day begin to streak, 
But when “Old Sol” is dipping West 
It seems to me I love it best. 

When busy life of day is past, 

A shimmering o’er the earth is cast; 
The mellow rays of brilliant light, 

More crimson-golden in their flight; 
They glow and fade to lighter hue 
As sinks His Majesty from view. 

93 


SUNSET 


No grander sight could humans seek 
Than sunset viewed from old Pike’s Peak; 
Surrounding crags lit up with flame, 

The shadows flit as in a game, 

Along the crest they take their flight, 

As silence deepens into night. 

At Great Salt Lake where Mormons rule, 
The sun sets in a blazing pool; 

The crimson orb plunged from the sky 
Is spread upon the lake to lie, 

Then kissing rippling waves good night, 
It gradually sinks from out our sight. 

While speeding at the close of day 
Along Columbia’s broad Highway, 

Or through the Fruitland ’mong the hills, 
Mt. Hood, Rainier, or Adams thrills 
Us all with wonder and delight, 

As sunset paints their peaks more bright. 

I’ve seen the sun set on the plain, 

I’ve seen the sun set after rain, 

I’ve seen the sun set many times, 

I’ve seen it set in many climes, 

94 


SUNSET 


But, at the Cliff-House, Golden Gate, 
I’ve seen it set in regal state. 

As if the Master Artist took 
The rainbow from its heavenly nook, 
Resting in either hand each end 
He crushed it all in perfect blend 
Then sprayed it o’er the sea and sky; 

A heavenly feast for human eye. 

“God so loved the world,” who doubt? 
The sunset puts distrust to rout; 

For, as the sun sets over there 
It rises up some other where. 

Life does not end with mortal clay, 

God promises another day. 


95 


SINK THE SHIPS OF WAR 


If war is Hell, then Hell is war, 

And instruments of death that jar 
The world with wholesale slaughter are 

Far worse than Hell. 

So let us sink the ships of war 

And all is well. 

If Nations were as sick of Hell 
As mothers of the boys who fell, 

They would unite to sound the knell 

Of future wars. 

So let us sink the ships, pell-mell! 

With all their scars. 

If business men the world around 
Would trade in peace on common ground, 
Not chase the Dollar and the Pound 

For selfish gain, 

They’d need more ships than could be found 

And cause no pain. 

96 


SINK THE SHIPS OF WAR 


If ships were built for peaceful trade, 
And goods alone for service made, 

A friendly feeling would be laid 

Among the Nations; 
And mighty warships then would grade 

As useless rations. 

Oh, leaders of the Nations, start 
To decrease armajnent in part, 

The prayer of every mother’s heart 

Is “Do it Weill” 

Sink every warship with its chart 

Deep down in Hell! 


97 


TO HARRY LAUDER 

It’s ten years noo 
Since first ye came 
With the smell o’ heather 
Frae yer hame, 

Yer bonnet, kilt, 

And crookit stick, 

And a tongue like porridge, 

Awfu’ thick. 


Ye thrilled us all 
With song and tale, 
Of mountain, glen 
And flowery dale; 
Of glorious deeds, 

Of battles won, 

Of purest love 

And wholesome fun. 
98 


TO HARRY LAUDER 

We loved your “Lass 
O’ Killicrankie 
For “Daisy” we can 
Hardly thank ye. 

Your “Rosy Posy” 

Was a queen, 

But can’t compare 
With “Bonnie Jean.” 

“Maggie Tamson” and 
“Jean MacNiel,” 
“Lizzie Lindsay” 

You loved so weel; 
“Jean MacGregor,” 
The bonnie lady, 

You “Loved her since 
She was a baby.” 

And when “Roamin’ 

In the Gloamin’,” 

Ach! you meant romancin’, 

’Stead of roamin’, 

For you hugged and kissed 
Your “Kate McBride,” 

When you were strollin’ 

Down the Clyde. 

99 



> I o 


TO HARRY LAUDER 


You had many lassies 
In your time 
And loved them all 
In song and rhyme. 
But, “I love a Lassie,” 
You’ll admit 
Remains today 
Your greatest hit. 

We laughed till we 
Could hardly talk 
At “Stop yer tick, 

Tick, ticklin’, Jock!” 

At “Doughie Baker” 

With his pie, 

At “Tobomory” and 
“Jock MacKay.” 

“At the weddin’ o’ 

Sandy MacNab” 

It was “Here’s to you 
And yours,” we’d blab; 
We all got fu’ and 
Sang the chorus, 

Of “Fu’ the Noo” and 
“Deoch and Dorus.” 


ioo 


TO HARRY LAUDER 

And you like 

“To get up in the morn” 

When you’re no feeling 
Tired and worn, 

But on Sunday 
You like instead 
“To get yer breakfast 
In yer bed.” 

And “He was 

Very good to me,” 
“The saftest o’ 

The family,” 

When he was “Wearin’ 
Kilts” be-gosh 
He’d whistle, 

“Rob Roy Macintosh. 

When “We parted 
On the shore” 

“Wi’ a British Bull Dog 
At the door,” 

“A sailor you 

Would like to be” 

“A-boundin’ o’er 
The boundin’ sea.” 


TO HARRY LAUDER 


Then we strolled 
Along together 
To the “Wee hoose 
’Mang the heather;’* 

You sang that hymn, 

Divine, a-flame! 

It made us feel 
' “Like being at Hame.” 

’Twas songs like these 
That brought you fame, 

A well-filled purse, 

An honored name; 

But earthly thoughts 
Your mind’s above, 

You sing your songs 
Now just for love. 

Yes, you sing for love, 

And love to sing 
For happiness 

That it will bring; 

'The suffering that 

The world’s gone through 
\Vas tempered by 

These songs from you. 


102 


SIR HARRY LAUDER’S GREETING 
TO AMERICA 


Hello, America! 

Aye, I’ve jist come o’er the pond. 
Mind noo, I’m tellin’ ye, I like ye! 

An’ of yer siller, I’m downright fond. 

It’s no’ so very long 

Since I had a farewell tour, 

But now I’m on another one, 

Because I’m feelin’ poor. 

Of course I canna help that, 

Because I am a Scot. 

You know, that’s one of our failin’s 
To feel poor when we’re not. 

But that’s no a’ I like ye for, 

Ye ken that weel, ’tis true, 

There are stronger bonds than siller 
That binds my heart to you. 

103 


SIR HARRY LAUDER’S GREETING 


It’s the sacrifice ye made 
In the fight across the sea, 

When ye helped to light the world 
With the torch of Liberty. 

It’s the friendships I have made 
In travelling here and there; 

Around aboot yer country 
My friends are everywhere, 

Yer welcome aye is hearty. 

The man who comes to your land 

To live in peace and plenty 
Will find it on every hand. 

Aye, the blood of all of Europe 
Is blending over here 

In harmony and love 

Without the slightest fear. 

The borders o’ your states 
Are open for a’ to pass, 

Ye freely trade together 

And have no privileged class. 

104 


SIR HARRY LAUDER’S GREETING 


Would to God that Europe 
Would pattern your condition, 

And understand each other 
With far, far less suspicion! 

So let us speed the day 

When Nations need no armament, 
But that of trust and tolerance, 
Beneath God’s firmament. 


105 


JOHN BARLEYCORN AT SEA 


Well, well! John, that’s news to me. 
Dame Rumor tells me truthfully 
That you are prospering handsomely 

Upon the Deep, 
Defying laws right openly 

That you should keep. 

The last I heard o’ you, my friend, 

You were that sick and near your end. 
But now I hear you’re on the mend 

And doing fine. 

So, greetings to you now I send, 

For Auld Lang Syne. 

When folks are sick or have the pip, 
The Medicoes advise a trip— 

A change of air aboard a ship 

To make them well; 
So you have given the law the slip 

To right yoursel’. 

106 


JOHN BARLEYCORN AT SEA 

But Yankee ships are no for you, 

No matter where upon the blue; 

Do you not know the “Righteous Few” 

Have sworn to drive 
You from the ships of Freedom, too? 

How dare you thrive? 


How dare you live? You’re in disgrace, 
How dare you show your cheery face? 
The “Holy Willies” say your place 

Is down below. 

Take care, you’ll get the Volstead chase 

Before you know. 


“Ach! calm yoursel’,” says John to me, 
“I’m strong and brave and bold and free, 
A friend to all who will agree 

To use me right. 

But when I am abused you’ll see 

Me roused for fight. 


“I know not why the laws of man 
Should try to alter Nature’s plan. 

107 


JOHN BARLEYCORN AT SEA 

Why don’t the laws severely scan 

And punish those 

Who drench themselves in jug and can, 

Or use a hose? 

“I live by Nature’s law alone. 

When fully ripe and fully grown 

I mellow hearts as cold as stone 

And give them life. 

I love to aid those who bemoan 

This bitter strife. 

“Now some men say that I destroy. 

Well, I’ll admit I’m not a toy 

To be around a beardless boy; 

But I disdain 

To slay or hurt or e’en annoy 

Or cause a pain. 

“I am the very life of corn, 

The concentrated life, and born 

To aid the weary, sad and worn, 

And stimulate; 

To be a hypocrite, I’d scorn 

At any rate.” 

108 


THE LAW 


What is the law? You may well ask. 

To tell ye true’s an awfu’ task. 

I would not lie or even bask 

In its safe niche. 

But some men use it as a mask 

To make them rich. 

Man makes his law to serve his will; 

To shelter some, and others kill; 

And uses it for legal swill 

To feed the mob, 

Who seek an easy life to fill 

A public job. 

Thus do the Legalizers work 

Appointing men they know will shirk, 

And give the law the wink and smirk 

And juggle it; 

And when they want a drink, a clerk 

Will smuggle it. 

109 


THE LAW 


What is the law? Now hear me true 
There is a law for me and you 
That works for all, not just a few, 

And we must strive 
To understand its workings, too, 

To live and thrive. 


God’s law was made for man, and he 
Must try to live accordingly. 

No man-made law can ever be 

Obeyed at a’ 

If it is not in harmony 

With Nature’s law. 


The laws of man, if laws we need 
To bolster up our Maker’s creed, 
Should be to educate and lead 

Men to do right; 
But laws to regulate his feed 

Will cause a fight. 


The law of God is balance, and 
In doing what we understand 


no 


THE LAW 


Is right. No matter where men stand 

The law is mind. 

Transgress, the law will then demand 

Its price in kind. 

Now listen here, you’ll get your fill; 

The human body is a still 

For alcohol it makes at will 

From certain food, 

And uses it to speed the mill 

And does us good. 

And alcohol is life—’tis power, 

And Nature gives to us a shower 

So generous from out her bower 

For us to use. 

God help us use this heavenly dower, 

And not abuse. 


TEMPERANCE 


Hear me now and cease your rage, 

You who would convert the age, 

No truer word by any sage 

Is given. 

“Let temperance rule and be your gauge 

In livin’.” 

What is the meaning o’ the word? 

To live above the common herd 
And be a righteous prude? Absurd! 

Our God is good! 

Such folk are not by Him preferred, 

Is understood. 

Such creatures are like flinty stone, 

Their hearts are centered in their own, 
They never let the human tone 

Come in their breast. 
They think because they live alone, 

They are the best. 


112 


TEMPERANCE 


And on the other hand I’ve seen 
The human beast, the harlot queen, 

The lazy, indolent and mean 

Who seek excess. 

They know not what they might have been, 

And they care less. 

Temperance is old Nature’s code 
To aid mankind along the road 
Of life, and lift from all the load 

Of weariness, 

And lead us up to that abode 

Of cheeriness. 

Now temperance, some men think, 

Refers to abstinence from drink; 

But they are wrong; why do they wink 

At what is true? 
Temperance is the middle link, 

Twixt me and you. 

Indulge too much in anything, 

We do not then to temperance cling, 

In work or play or even sing 

We can transgress. 

So, be temperate in everything 

And not digress. 

113 


“THAT’S HOW YOU FIXED IT” 

(A Tribute to Frank Bacon) 

Dear old lovable “Lightnin’ Bill,” 
American type of a hard old pill, 

Shuffling, aimless, easy and free, 

A ne’er-do-well apparently, 

But something ’neath your rough old hide 
Made people love you till they cried. 

That’s how you fixed it. 

Momentous work you had to do, 

Which worried mother, never you. 

From hotel owner, man of ease, 

To carryin’ mail and drivin’ bees; 

It mattered not what came to hand, 

From Railroad’s bluff to Court’s command, 

Somehow you’d fix it. 

Your character ran true to type; 

Waitin’ till the time was ripe, 


“THAT’S HOW YOU FIXED IT” 


With bluff and graft in merry chase 
You led ’em on, nor changed your pace 
Till entangled in their own intrigue 
You then destroyed their vicious league. 

That’s how you fixed it. 

Few could understand your grace 
Or penetrate your smiling face; 

They called you “Lightnin’,”—didn’t know 
Your ways were sure, however slow; 

Your shafts of homely, brilliant wit 
Like lightning broke the gloom a bit. 

That’s how you fixed it. 

America, with her many broods, 

Is bound to have as many moods; 

She holds aloof from world affairs,— 
She’ll not be taken unawares, 

But when the nations wash their hands 
Of blood and hate, she understands, 

And then she’ll fix it. 

Frank Bacon, you are silent now, 

But to your genius all must bow; 

115 


/ 

“THAT’S HOW YOU FIXED IT” 

In “Lightnin’ Bill” you’ll live for aye, 

America will richly pay 

For your portrayal of her mood, 

Because you loved and understood. 

That’s how you fixed it. 


116 


TO EDDY GUEST 


The folks have gathered nation-wide 
To honor your poetic stride; 

“Just Folks” that’s all we hope to be, 

The folks you write of lovingly, 

Mother, Bud, and Sister Sally,— 

The folks who live down in your alley. 

You came to us long years ago, 

And you have never ceased to grow 
In understanding of our folks; 

With virile verse and simple jokes, 

You held us up to our own view 
And urged improvement through and 
through. 

The many sermons that you’ve preached, 
The many aching hearts you’ve reached, 

The many lessons that you’ve taught, 

The many battles that you’ve fought 
Each day with us in homely rhyme,— 

Have lifted us to heights sublime. 

117 


TO EDDY GUEST 


There is no other task so grand 
As making people understand, 

There comes no greater joy to men 
Than happiness won by the pen; 

And the crowning of our daily labors 
Is to be loved by one’s own neighbors. 


118 


A WISH 


Like the immortal Scottish poet 
Who dipped his pen in love and wrote, 
“O, would that I a verse could make, 

Or sing a song for Scotland’s sake,” 

So, too, would I that wish proclaim, 
That I might sing and write the same. 

And still another wish I’ve got, 

To tell the humor of the Scot 
In manner easily understood, 

That all may smile and say, “That’s good. 
For Scottish humor is as dry, 

And full of chuckles as a pie. 

And though I’ve never seen her hills, 

Or heard the tinkle of her rills, 

Or heard the mavis in the morn, 

Or smelt the bonnie white hawthorn, 

I wish that I could see and hear 

The things that make Old Scotland dear. 

119 


IF I WERE A FOREMAN 


If I were a foreman I’d learn to know 
That my position was a chance to grow; 

I’d try to understand men who work, 

To direct their efforts that none should shirk. 

If I were a foreman I’d always lead, 

I would never drive to attain more speed; 
Workmen are human, and humans must love, 
And they’ll do more work when there is no 
shove. 

If I were a foreman I’d play the game, 

Be as ready to praise as I was to blame, 

Be sincere and just and never a snob, 

But above all else I’d be on the job. 

If I were a foreman, this truth I’d learn, 
That I was the key to the whole concern, 

And that harmony of the whole depends 
On my leadership of my working friends. 

120 


WILL TO WIN! 


Arise! and join me in this song 
To cheer us as we speed along, 

A song that will to all reveal 
The nobler thought, the kindlier feel 
Of man to man in each dark hour, 

A song of trust, a song of power 
To stir the very soul within 
To hold the thought of Will to Win! 


“Be not afraid!” He did command; 
“Peace be still,” and with His hand 
Soothed the heaving sea to rest, 
Driving the fear from out each breast; 
So, He who calms the sea at will 
Is watching o’er His people still, 
Inspires each heart not to give in, 
Trust, have faith and Will to Win! 


121 


WILL TO WIN! 


Will to win! and win we must, 

Our motto still “In God we trust!” 
Be happy, gay, rejoice and sing 
Around the wide world make it ring, 
In God we trust for victory 
O’er self and lust. We shall be free! 
No doubt or failure enters in, 

We’ll win because we Will to Win! 




122 


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